


The things that draw us

by yoshi09



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Bash x Mary, F/M, Mabastian, Mary x Bash, mash - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshi09/pseuds/yoshi09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sending almost all her ladies to check on Bash's condition, Mary comes to visit him herself. Relationship gapfiller fic.  Takes place during s1e4 while Bash is bedridden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things that draw us

Timeline: Takes place during s1e4 while Bash is bedridden; after Mary starts packing her things and before Mary visits Francis while he's shooting arrows to vent his frustration.

A/N: This follows in line with the canon and my relationship gapfiller "Star-crossed." There is a reference here to my fic "Star-crossed" so it would be nice if you read that first, but it doesn't ruin the flow of the story if you don't.

* * *

Normally Mary had to walk a long path twice before she memorized it but this time her instinct seemed to know precisely which corner to turn, which staircase to descend. She walked with such single-mindedness she didn't notice the servants curtsey and bow as she passed them, nor did she see one of the stablemen open his mouth to talk to her about the change of diet in her horse. No, her mind was elsewhere today. Mired with politics and wounds not just to the heart, but to the flesh— she lifted her dress, her steps quickening at the thought until finally she reached her destination. Trust Nostradamus to choose the most far-reaching rooms of the castle as his abode.

She was just about to knock when she realized her state of disarray. She paused, pulling some strands of hair from her face and taking several deep breaths to mask how she nearly ran to be here. Feeling sufficiently composed she raised her hand again and gave it two sharp raps.

She was met with silence and for a moment Mary was uncertain if Bash was sleeping, if she should come another time. Then, right as she was about to knock one last time she heard a voice— Bash's, tired, but Bash's— from the other side.

"First Aylee, then Greer, then Lola... so this must be the Lady Kenna?"

Mary opened the door, smiling despite herself. "Mary, actually."

He looked pale, much paler than she remembered and she felt herself hesitate as she took in his image. There was a sheen of sweat layering his skin, his hair matted to his forehead, and his eyes were sunken with exhaustion. His eyes opened at the sound of her voice.

"Ah the Queen herself, blessing me with her presence."

Apparently not exhausted enough to keep the brashness from his tongue.

Her tone took on stern as she went to his bedside, though her words were equally as teasing. "Do not jest, Bash, you may open yet another wound."

Bash smiled a little. "Why does that sound like an invitation rather than a threat?"

"Perhaps the loss of blood?" Mary gave him a pointed look.

His smile widened. "Oh Mary, never leave me."

Mary returned his smile and smoothed her dress at her bottom as she sat on the stool beside him. She leaned over to press the back of her hand to his forehead. "You're burning up."

He sighed dramatically, almost wistfully and Mary prepared herself for what was sure to be yet another rib from his quick wit. "What other choice do I have when you fluster me so?"

Mary shook her head, a smile still playing on her lips— she was flattered but unmoved. "Lola told me you were chatty... I suppose it takes more than a wound to the chest to divert your cheekiness?"

"You inspire the best in me, your gra—" Bash coughed suddenly. Without a second thought Mary ladled water from a nearby basin and eased it to his mouth. He took in long, hurried gulps.

"Slowly." she soothed.

Having drained the ladle he leaned back against the pillow, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes.

Mary took a washcloth folded neatly next to another bowl of water which she dipped the cloth in before she squeezed the water out. She gently dabbled the washcloth across his brow. The coolness of the water made Bash open his eyes and he found himself assessing her with a gentle, unreadable expression that she mistook it for a look of confusion toward her abilities, rather than an affection for her tenderness.

"The convent." Mary began sheepishly, "We often had ill coming in and out of our doors..." She smoothed the cloth over his cheeks, his chin, and his neck before dipping the washcloth in water again, repeating this action several times, completely oblivious to how her gentleness softened his expression, how he leaned into her touch.

Finally she refolded the cloth three times over and placed it onto his forehead, her other hand placed comfortingly over his hand. Bash's hand automatically flipped palm up, twining his fingers into hers, his thumb running unconsciously over the edge of her forefinger as if he was the one comforting her. The touch made Mary look at their tangled fingers and before she could take a moment to process what this meant she was reminded how pale he was with the stark contrast of his hand against hers. Her thoughts turned to more pressing matters.

"Bash... your father captured the spy who slipped word to the English."

"Did he now?"

"Yes," Mary continued quickly, "Lord Simon Westbrook. The English envoy and diplomat."

Bash hummed, looking away, as if the news added more pain. Mary leaned over to press the washcloth a little more firmly to his head with her free hand. "I thought this news might make you feel better. And yet you grimace."

"My father is hasty. Doesn't it seem  _convenient_  that the one English representative, specifically sent for the sole purpose of keeping peace between nations, would be the spy?"

Mary's eyebrow furrowed and she pulled back her hand. "What are you saying?"

Bash sighed, rolling his attention back to her, his hand suddenly limp under her fingers. "I am saying my father is a king and power-hungry, and as much as I seek retribution for the ill-will done upon our companies and myself, the cost of war is a much higher price."

Mary leaned back, as if seeing Bash for the first time. He continued, "A price I am not willing to see my brother pay." Bash coughed and Mary automatically lifted the ladle to his lips again and he drank deeply. He leaned away before he finished the water, determined to keep speaking, "Besides, what proof does my father have?"

Mary swallowed and now it was her turn to look away.

Bash's brow furrowed. "Surely he has some?"

"There was a... prostitute." Mary said, turning her gaze back to him once more, "Judith. She came forward, claiming to have heard and seen Simon bragging about his plans."

Bash nodded, as if he should've expected such a story.

"Bash, I signed my name to her word. If she is wrong—"

"For all our sakes, let's hope she is not."

Mary nodded once, swallowing. She looked down and then met Bash's eyes again.

"Bash, there is something else."

"You do not need preamble with me, Mary." Bash reassured.

Mary went on. "I tell you because I value our friendship. You have been the most welcoming of the entire court, and I thank you."

Bash's eyebrows raised and Mary could see a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips but before he could say anything she continued, glancing down at their entwined fingers. "I am leaving in two days. After Michaelmas. By signing my name to Judith's word King Henry agreed to break the engagement between Francis and I," Mary looked up to meet his gaze, "so that I may be engaged to Tomas and ensure the safety of my country."

Bash didn't say anything for some time.

Mary felt somewhat unnerved by his lack of rapport. "He is... kind... handsome... a little headstrong, but all kings are..."

"Mary who are you trying to convince, me or you?"

Mary smiled a little, trying to lighten the sudden change in atmosphere. Bash closed his eyes as he went on. "Are you happy?"

She opened her mouth wordlessly, a little bewildered by the question, and then closed it. She began anew, "I am happy that my country will be safe."

Bash smirked and they both knew the political dance she played with her choice of words.

"You are brave." His eyes fluttered open. "I think Artemis would admire you." he returned in kind.

"Artemis would stay with the one she loved."

Bash was quiet for a moment.

"Artemis' bravery was that of a selfish nature." He said, squeezing her hand gently. "You hold the interests of hundreds upon thousands, and place them above your own. Which I find, much more admirable."

They shared a long silence, and this time Mary was touched by his words. She was going to miss Bash, his keen foresight, his wit, and his infinite patience.

There was a knock on the door and Mary stood suddenly, dropping his hand. She brushed off her dress just to have something to do with her hands as the door opened. She spun around, her mouth forming the name of the new guest. "Nostradamus."

"Apologies for the interruption—"

"Not at all!" Bash cut him off, "Your timing is unparalleled as always, Nostradamus."

Nostradamus gave him a glance but otherwise ignored him as he addressed Mary, "Your majesty, the King's son needs his rest."

From behind Mary Nostradamus could see Bash rolling his eyes.

"Of course." Mary said graciously. She turned to hold Bash's gaze one last time. "Get well, Bash."

He smiled comfortingly before she moved to leave the room.

Nostradamus watched as she passed him, inclining his head in makeshift bow as she continued down the hall. Then sure she was out of earshot he walked into the room, shut the door firmly behind him and without looking over his shoulder he said. "It is a dangerous game you play."

"More unwarranted insights from the queen's pet?"

"Your slights against me are in misguided retaliation for your mother. But that was many years ago, Sebastian." Nostradamus turned, "It would do you a measure of good, if you were to distance yourself from the Queen."

"We do our very best to ignore one another, I assure you."

"I meant—" he bowed slightly in deference, "the Queen of Scotland."

Bash looked away, jaw clenching.

"I did not come however to judge you in matters of the heart. I am here to ensure your fever breaks. Nostradamus walked to his bedside to hand Bash a vial before stalking to the other side of his room out of view. "Now drink the contents of that vial and rest."

* * *

A/N: I thought it was weird how Bash seemed awfully hostile toward Nostradamus while he was bedridden so I made up a plausible reason why with it being something Nostradamus must have done to his mother. Hope it was believable. Anyway— another one of my plot bunnies that stayed in note and draft form for awhile and then I wrote all in one sitting because I got food poisoned and could do nothing else. =/ On the plus side, more happy fic right? I am looking specifically at you, Bashful Masher and sarsaparilla9. I am sorry you both are in such Mash ruts at the moment. =( I have been working on another brothers fic for a long time but I think I'll let that one take another back seat and write more happy Mash for you guys. Thank you for reading everyone! Please review and tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you wish there was more fic of, etc. and you might just see it come into fruition.


End file.
